


Canvas

by dhyanshiva



Category: Shubh Mangal Zyada Saavdhan (2020)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-06
Updated: 2020-04-06
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:47:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23507842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dhyanshiva/pseuds/dhyanshiva
Summary: “Aman Tripathi, will you do the honour of painting on this today? I would like to embark on this process of creating art to adorn this painfully bare wall. Do you accept?”
Relationships: Kartik Singh/Aman Tripathi
Comments: 15
Kudos: 37





	Canvas

**Author's Note:**

> This is the only instance of a lighthearted piece you'll see from me as an author. This is a formal apology to Kartik and Aman and those of you who have been emotionally injured by the pain in my writing. There will be more in the updates on my existing works, and future publications.
> 
> Before we begin, I'd like to mention that the theme of this piece is colour and love. Believe me, you'd be doing yourselves a favour, reading the absolutely magnificinet colour series by @Tinevisce. This series can be seen as the counterpart to this stand alone. The author portrays the shades of love beautifully, 10/10 would recommend!
> 
> As always, do leave a comment and/or kudos below to let me know what you think!
> 
> Much love,  
> Dhyan x

Aman dug through his pockets, exasperation adding to his exhaustion. Rooting around for his keys to their flat was the last thing he wanted to be doing. The day had been atrocious to say the least. In fact, why stop there? The whole week had been nothing short of hell, and the weekend couldn’t have come sooner. It takes a moment for him to register the state of the living room. Laid out in front of a blank wall, covering all of the empty space, is layers of newspaper. Kartik was sat in the middle, surrounded by painting supplies, a massive canvas laid out in front of him. Before he could ask any questions, his boyfriend ushered him away, telling him to get into something old and comfortable. Frankly, Aman didn’t need to be told twice and acquiesced, glad to be rid of the shirt clinging to his sweaty back, the collar that seemed to suffocate him. As he changed into a pair of joggers and a tank top, Aman couldn’t help but smile. Seeing Kartik made all his frustration disappear, it was like magic, really.

Returning to the living room, he stopped short at the sight that welcomed him. It was Kartik, down on one knee, a paintbrush proffered in front of him. With a wide grin on his face, he looked Aman in the eye and the glint in his eye told the other man to be prepared for something absolutely ludicrous yet heart-warming. He crossed his arms and waited as Kartik took a deep breath, looking like he was preparing to say something truly life changing.

“Aman Tripathi, will you do the honour of painting on this today? I would like to embark on this process of creating art to adorn this painfully bare wall. Do you accept?”  
It took all his self control to not burst out laughing at Kartik’s theatrics. He went along with the charade and held out his hand in agreement. Reverently almost, the paintbrush was placed atop his palm and Kartik got to his feet. Taking Aman’s free hand, he led them over to the set up and gestured for him to take a seat. He too, sat down beside him, their knees touching. Kartik reach out and took both of Aman’s hands in his. What he said next brought tears to his eyes and the love he felt for this man became all the greater, overwhelming him.  
“I noticed that this week especially was getting to you. I won’t pretend to be able to comprehend the intricacies of your work, but I know nothing is worth the mental and physical burden you’ve put on yourself. So today, we’re going to do something about that damn wall. This canvas is massive. You take one half, I take the other. Go wild, there are no restrictions. Any patterns, images, colours – there’s a whole spectrum available – can be used!”

Kartik felt a warmth bloom in his chest as Aman lit up, adoration evident in his gaze. Reallly, he felt that this was the least this wonderful man deserved. He’d seen little doodles on spare sheets of paper that were left around their home. On post it notes of reminders or affirmations there was always a sketch to accompany the words Aman had written in his neat script. Kartik cherished these things about his boyfriend, all the personal touches he added to things like this. Waking up to a message here and there made Kartik feel right at home and he couldn’t be more thankful. It was Aman who made each day worth experiencing. Kartik never thought he’d come to say ‘I’m glad I’m alive’ but it was Aman who made life worth loving and living. Kartik could feel his throat tighten and eyes mist over. Reigning in his emotions, he shook the sentimental thoughts away. No, now was not the time. Turning to the board, he dipped the brush in a pot of blue and began. He caught Aman swiping a hand over his cheeks and chose not to comment on it, instead squeezing the other man’s knee in understanding.

They worked quietly for about half an hour, which was in itself an achievement. Aman stopped after finishing a major portion of his half. He looked around for inspiration, surveying the décor of the flat, the paint lay out in front of him. His gaze shifted to the man sat beside him and his heart just melted at the adorable sight. Kartik’s brows were furrowed in concentration, the tip of his tongue poking out as he worked on a particularly intricate design. Aman glanced at his side and once again, marvelled at the talent in this man. His boyfriend was an amazing dancer and singer, this he knew. However, this was the first opportunity where Kartik was demonstrating his illustrative prowess and really, Aman wasn’t surprised to see he excelled here too. Coming out of his thoughts at a sound of exasperation from Kartik, he decided it was time for a little fun. Slyly, he dipped his index finger in the pot of orange and quick as lightning, bopped Kartik on the nose. The surprise on his face was hilarious and Aman waited for him to register what had happened.

Kartik blinked at a strange cold sensation on his nose and he could hear Aman’s laughter ring out as he crossed his eyes to see what was on it. When he did, no time was wasted in retaliation. Quickly, he dipped another brush in grey and flicked the colour at Aman’s torso. The indignant expression on Aman’s face made Kartik tear up and it soon ceased as his expression morphed into mock anger. Taking a deep breath, he locked their gazes and murmured menacingly.

“Oh you asked for it. PAINT WAR.”

At that, they began hurling splotches of paint at one another. Pretty soon, Kartik couldn’t hold back at the truly glorious vision of Aman truly enjoying himself and letting his guard down. Caring little about the fact that they were both covered in paint, he pulled him into a warm hug, arms resting on his back. He buried his face in Aman’s neck as he felt the other man return the embrace. A sudden wave of emotion hit him as he wrapped his head around the fact that this beautiful human was his to cherish and love for time immemorial.

“I love you, Aman Tripathi, to the moon and back. And I’ll make that trip till the end of time, because that’s truly how much you mean to me. How did I get so lucky?”  
At that, a small frown came onto Aman’s face and he pulled away slightly, taking Kartik’s face between his hands, forcing the taller man to meet his eyes. This was one of those moments, he realised. When Kartik undermined himself, began to revert to that young boy who wasn’t told any better. No, he had to stop that train of thought from shadowing the beauty of this moment.

“Kartik, babe, no. You deserve every ounce of love that this universe has to offer. I’d hand it to you in a heartbeat, if I could. But you’ll have to make do with me and Lord knows I’ll live the rest of my days loving you because truly, there’s no other way I’d have it. I love you too.”

At that, he pressed a soft, chaste kiss on Kartik’s lips and pulled away, surveying the state of the canvas and giving Kartik some time to compose himself. The vision in front of him took his breath away. Inevitably, some of the paint from their fooling around had gotten on the canvas but the final outcome was enhanced by it. On Aman’s half, the depiction of vibrancy and colour, life, was interspersed with splotches of grey and blue, the streaks mingling perfectly. On Kartik’s side, the beautiful night sky, a complex constellation to boot, had spots on all the brighter colours. The dichotomy took his breath away. He felt Kartik snake an arm around his waist and looked up to see a thoughtful expression on his face as his gaze swept over the painting.

“You know, I like to think that we unwittingly created a representation of ourselves. I know you see yourself as the night sky and your perception, unfortunately, leans towards the darker side. But in my eyes, you’re astounding. You’re my safe place and you have literal stars in your eyes. I look at you and instantly, my fears disappear. You see me as this bundle of constant positivity and I’m glad for it, but you also know the parts I’ve hidden away from everyone else. And you accept me in my entirety, which no one ever cared to do before. I love this, really, what a masterpiece!”

Aman was rendered speechless by the analysis. Truly, Kartik’s mind was a gold mine. Stepping forward, he dipped the thinnest brush in the pot of black paint and carefully wrote out Kartik Singh in the corner, close to the divide on the canvas. He heard a sound of comprehension from Kartik as he got to the surname and watched as Kartik imitated him, writing out Aman Tripathi in white paint, the spidery script that Aman loved so much contrasting his cursive style.  
They got to clearing up the setup, propping the canvas up on the table, leaving it to dry. In the midst of cleaning the paintbrushes, Aman’s gaze fell on Kartik’s exposed forearm. Without another word, he dried his hands and grabbed his phone, taking a picture of the tattoo. The added colour had made the intricate design more wondrous and looking up, he met Kartik’s curious gaze. Showing him the photo, Aman watch as comprehension dawned on his face. Mutually, they decided that this would be their next project and with that in mind, wrapped up the rest of the work, a content smile on both their faces.


End file.
